Birthdaypalooza!
by Emeraudedeux
Summary: A collection of ficlets, each dedicated to a special someone in celebration of their birth! Cake, anyone?
1. Letta

**Disclaimer:** All canon characters, plots and situations from the Harry Potter series belong to JK Rowling. I make no profit from this story.

 **Warning: Smut**

 **Pairing:** Viktor K/Hermione G

 **A/N:** _Dearest Letta - it's been my pleasure to get to know you, and with great joy I bring you this little snippet of some Krum lovin'… Happy birthday!_

* * *

 **Until We Meet**

* * *

Hermione bit back a squeal when the Weasley's tawny owl flew through an open window and dropped a small envelope in her hands. She knew those blocked letters anywhere, and fought a smile at the realization that after two years of correspondence, he'd finally got the hang of spelling her name correctly. His English was nearly perfect by now, though she had no doubt his accent was still thick as nails.

She excused herself quickly from the table of redheads - _and Harry_ \- and made her way up the rickety stairs of the Burrow. Safe behind closed doors in the privacy of Ginny's room, Hermione curled her feet beneath her on the bed and gently pried open the flap. Her smile grew wider with every sentence exposed. This summer, it seemed, was destined to get hotter.

 _Hermione,_

 _I hope this finds you well. I bring great news today. I have received formal invitation from Fleur Delacour for attendance of her upcoming wedding._

 _I have word that you will be there, of course. When are you not surrounded by the family of red?_

 _Words are sweet, but your presence will be sweeter. I've waited very long to see you again. Wishes do come true._

 _Until we meet, moyat mayuk skupa._

— _Viktor_

Hermione placed the letter on the duvet, smoothing the parchment out before reading the note once more. An involuntary sigh of contentment left her lips as she touched the endearing words he'd quilled. She grabbed the letter, holding it against her chest and let herself fall back onto the pillows, shutting her eyes briefly as memory of the handsome Bulgarian floated behind her eyelids.

 **xx**

" _I've had a lovely time tonight, Hermoninny," Viktor's husky voice broke the silence of the still night air._

 _Hermione blushed, eyeing the heels clad on her feet. She had a wonderful night, too, the best she could remember ever having. For one of the very first times in her life, she felt wanted. Hermione Granger was sought after, and beautiful - she was someone's first choice._

" _Thank you, Viktor," she whispered._

" _What for?"_

 _She shrugged her shoulders, raising her eyes to meet his. He was watching her in wonder, and she didn't give herself any time to think or back down before tilting her face up and pressing her lips against his. She was slow, unsure if she was doing it correctly. She'd never kissed anyone until this moment, but he'd placed his hands around her waist, tugging her closer and moving his mouth over hers._

 _She felt a fire light somewhere deep within her, and was surprised to find the tiny moans floating around them were her own. She tipped her head to the side, exposing more flesh to the wizard who began trailing open mouth kisses down her neck._

 _Viktor's hands smoothed down the sides of her dress, fingering the soft material and her delicate curves beneath. Their lips met again, more hungry than before, and it took nearly all of her willpower to put her hands on his chest - his strong, solid chest - and gently push him away._

" _Viktor… I can't… Not here," she mumbled, suddenly embarrassed at the lack of contact between them._

 _He ran his fingertips over her cheek, cradling it softly and gave her a grin. "I understand. You, Hermoninny, are captivating..._

" _Mione! Can you hear me, Hermione? Honestly—"_

 **xx**

She sat up quickly, clutching the parchment tight enough to tear the paper at the interruption of a voice much higher than the one she'd been dreaming of.

"Are you honestly sleeping right now? It's barely ten o'clock!" Ginny whined, flopping down on the bed parallel to her own.

"What? Um… No, sorry. Dozed off, I suppose."

"Mmm. What's that you've got there?" Ginny gestured towards the paper in her hands.

"Nothing, it's _ahhh!"_ Hermione yelped as the younger girl pounced with the reflexes of a great Quidditch player, pulling the parchment from her grasp in one swift movement.

"You, my friend, are a terrible liar."

Hermione reached around Ginny, stretching her arm as far as she could in a failed attempt to retrieve her letter. "I'm not!"

"Really?" Ginny cleared her throat, hopping onto her bed and standing with the parchment held before her like a scroll holding a royal announcement.

" _Hermione, I hope this finds you well. I bring you great news today…"_ the girl trailed off and Hermione watched helplessly as her eyes skimmed back and forth, devouring every last word.

"Viktor Krum. _Hermione!_ " she shrilled. "You're still talking to him and you haven't told me? Bloody hell!" The girl let out a low whistle, and Hermione hid behind her hands, her face flushed bright red.

"I said it's nothing, really… we correspond. So what?"

"Your face tells otherwise."

She sighed, knowing full well that Ginevra Weasley _would not_ back down until Hermione gave up all the dirty details. Not that there were many, though Viktor did get… _descriptive_ … in a letter or two.

Hermione managed to hold it together the duration of her tale, only stuttering over her words slightly with the re-telling of the Yule Ball, the first hand account much more exciting than what anyone would have expected. She was frizzy, little Hermione, _after all_ , courted on the arm of Bulgarian royalty!

 _What could possibly have happened?_ Her face warmed again, and she bit her lip at the thought of what her mates would say.

The girls gossiped a while longer, with Ginny giving word to help Hermione look her very best at the wedding. _Even better than the Ball,_ she promised.

 **xxx**

The week passed quickly with Molly Weasley recruiting everyone to get the Burrow and grounds into tip top shape. With everything in perfect order, the only thing left to do was get a well rested night's sleep and prepare themselves for the big day.

Both girls woke early, a full schedule of pampering ahead of them. They exfoliated and lotioned, brushed and curled, and by the time noon chimed from a clock in the corner, they were slipping their dresses into place.

Hermione stood in front of a tall mirror attached to the back of Ginny's door. The dress she'd chosen for the event was made of smooth silk, a beautiful lilac cut to land at mid thigh. The material swished around her legs as she walked, and she'd be lying if she said she hadn't chosen the dress in remembrance of Viktor's hands caressing her years ago.

Ginny fussed with her curls one last time before eyeing herself. The witch wore robes of gold, and somewhere downstairs was Gabrielle - _Fleur's younger sister_ \- wearing a matching bridesmaid gown.

Their heels clacked noisily on the old, wooden stairs as they made their way down to greet the gaggle of family, both Weasleys and Delacours, milling about the house. Molly was moving frantically through the kitchen, sweat beads beginning to form on her brow as she slaved over the stove top, bidding ladles and spoons to do her work. She broke from her spell momentarily to give both girls a once over and smiled in approval before shooing them out the door.

Three hours later, vow's had been exchanged, and Fleur Delacour, dressed in a simple gown with a tiara atop her blonde head, officially became the newest Mrs. Weasley. The reception was in full swing, and up until now, Hermione had yet to catch sight of the man she'd spent so much time fantasizing about. Her luck quickly turned at the thought, because _just there_ through the group of wizards ahead stood one Viktor Krum.

She watched him methodically, the crowd seemingly melting away as he skirted around party goers and headed straight for her. Hermione felt like the room was closing, zeroing in, and he was the _very handsome_ target. She tried to calm her breathing to a slower pace and pressed her hands over the pleats of her dress, both smoothing the fabric and wiping any sweat that inevitably began to collect on her nervous palms.

He was there, just in front of her now, and she tucked a curl behind her ear and eyed him through dark lashes. "Viktor," she breathed.

"Hermione," he spoke, and his voice was as velvety as she remembered. "You look ravishing, _mila_."

She cursed herself silently for blushing at the words. He wasn't shy with compliments by any means, but having him so close to her yet again was… _intoxicating._

"And you," she began, eyeing his form appreciatively, "you look… wow."

His laugh was rich and deep and shot straight to her core. After retrieving drinks, the pair sat in comfortable silence, enjoying one another's company. They laughed and talked - _she was right, his english was nearly perfect!_ \- and after some time, the mood of the reception changed as the music picked up its pace.

Viktor reached for her, bending slightly as he placed a kiss on the back of her hand, sending tingles up her arm and then, _to her surprise_ , pulled her onto the dance floor. They spun and dipped, twisted and shuffled until Hermione's feet ached from the movement and cheeks burned from smiling so much.

They rocked in circles, Hermione held tight against his chest as the soft tones of the slow song drifted to a close. He whispered, his head leaning against hers, "What say we find somewhere a bit quieter?"

Hermione stilled for a moment, taking in his words and reading into them much more than he probably intended. She released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding and met his eyes. "I'd like that."

She scanned the crowd, noting that Ron and Harry were preoccupied with what appeared to be a few witches from Beauxbatons while Ginny spun wildly with Luna on the dance floor. She grabbed Viktor's hand and ducked out of the tent before she could change her mind. Eyeing the lawn, she contemplated where they should go. Decision made, she pulled him off to the left, just beyond the garden where Arthur's shed stood tall.

Hermione laughed at Viktor's expression when she pulled her wand to unlock the door. "It's okay. You'll love this."

He followed her reluctantly, though his expression lit up when the room did. The inside of the shed looked like a thrift shop, packed with muggle furniture and trinkets galore. She explained an item or two as they moved through the room, and when they'd reached the back of the building, she toed the grass nervously, waiting for Viktor's response.

Before them, in the depths of the shed, sat a lovely chaise. Hermione knew it was there because Ron had showed it to her the month prior, knowing she would appreciate the victorian styled piece. It was quite comfortable, as she recalled, and she couldn't stop her mind from wandering, wondering what it may be like to lay on it, snog on it, fu—"

Her thoughts were interrupted as Viktor spun her on the spot, backing her up until her calves hit the chair. She buckled, letting her body drop onto the plush cushion and wasted no time, pulling him down with her.

There kisses were fervent, and she hummed in pleasure when he hooked an arm under her thigh, hitching one leg up against his hip. His hand trailed up the smooth skin, and she was so lost in concentration that she forgot to feel nervous about his touch.

"Hermione," he whispered, the word almost choked with the sound of self restraint. "You think you're ready?" She watched his lips move, hungry to taste him again as her fingers trailed along the waistband of his trousers.

She smiled softly and matched his quiet tone. "I've been thinking about this since we had to say goodbye two years ago, Viktor. I won't let you get away from me again." He grinned in return, pushing a few wayward curls away from her eyes and stroked her lower lip with the pad of thumb.

"More beautiful than I remember," he breathed. Viktor lifted himself to his feet, pulling Hermione to sit and reached around to lower the zipper on her gown. She sat in nervous awe, her breath coming out in pants and willed her blush to disappear when he pushed the lilac material down her frame. She lifted herself enough to pull the dress away completely, and let out a breath before meeting his eyes with as much confidence as she could exude.

She thanked Merlin that she'd let Ginny convince her to wear _pretty_ knickers that day. Viktor had those knickers in his hand now, tossing them to the side and eyeing her as if he'd like to devour her whole.

Her eyes widened when his trousers were out of the way, and she gave herself a fleeting moment to panic because _Godric, that's big!_

Viktor lowered himself to meet her lips, swiping her mouth gently to grant access. She complied, melting a little when his tongue skated across her own.

She cried out in surprise when he slipped a hand between her thighs, rubbing slow circles across her folds and dipped one _, two_ fingers inside, twisting them to stretch her ever so slightly. It was unlike any experience she'd ever had because _who was she kidding,_ Hermione Granger didn't hook up.

Viktor's eyes were closed, his mouth parted slightly, and Hermione gripped his shoulder, squeezing lightly when he hit her _just right_.

"Tell me yes, _skupa_ ," He moaned. "Say yes."

Her eyes darkened at the sound of his want for her. _Her!_ She was as ready as she'd ever be, so she nodded, jerky movements and finally croaked out a loud yes because if he didn't go _now_ she would surely burst.

With her word, he titled his hips up slightly, positioning his body before pressing forward and entering her in one fluid motion.

She cried out, blinded momentarily by the shooting pain she should have expected. He stilled, undoubtedly worried he'd hurt her, but she kissed his jaw and whispered her comforts. Soon the tweaking ache became a slow burn as his strokes moved from controlled, languid to fast and erratic.

Hermione assumed he was close, and she wrapped her arms around his bulky frame, running her nails along the muscles in his back. It felt wonderful, _truly,_ but she still wasn't quite sure what she should do.

She kissed his lips as he finished, and they both lay there spent, content to stay hidden in Arthur Weasley's shed while the rest of the world danced their cares away.

After they were both cleaned and dressed, making sure not a hair was out of line, they made their way slowly across the Burrow lawn hand in hand. When they re-entered the tent, Hermione caught Ginny's eye, and the twinkle she saw there was a sure sign she knew what was up.

No sooner had their blissful moment been shared, chaos erupted. The guests watched in confusion as the patronus of Kingsley Shacklebolt swept through the area, demanding all attention.

" _The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming."_

The volume of the tent rose tremendously as whispers turned to shouting, and soon Death Eaters were popping in as spells flew past their heads.

Hermione knew what she had to do. _Find Ron and Harry_ , but her heart was breaking in this moment and she knew she had to move quickly. She grabbed Viktor by the lapels of his blazer, yanking him down roughly to press her lips to his. She was frantic, _desperate_ and prayed he knew how much she truly cared.

"I'm sorry. I have to go…" She rushed, turning away as shouts from her Wizards came just behind her.

Viktor reached out, whipping her around to pull her into a bone crushing embrace. He pressed his lips to her hair, temple, and finally her mouth once more before whispering in her ear and pushing her away, turning on the spot and disappearing, _pop!_

She touched her fingers to her lips, eyes swimming as the sounds in the room turned to static. She was vaguely aware that Ron had grabbed her wrist, tugging her towards Harry where all three began their descent into darkness.

 _"Until we meet."_

* * *

 _moyat mayuk skupa = my little darling_

 _mila = dear_


	2. Jessica

**Disclaimer:** All canon characters, plots and situations from the Harry Potter series belong to JK Rowling. I make no profit from this story.

 **Pairing:** Neville L/Hannah A

 **Happy birthday to the amazing** _ **Ladyparongsny.**_ **You are beyond fabulous, and I cherish our friendship immensely. You have a beautiful soul, and I bring you this ficlet in hopes of making you smile the same way you do for me daily! This is your day - enjoy it! 3**

* * *

 **Hummingbird**

" _... And with a girl as sweet as you there's not much else I can do but fall for you …"_

* * *

Neville stared at the tiny black box in his palm. He could feel the sweat building on his brow and with fumbling a hand, wiped it away.

"Whad'ya think?" He held the box out, showing off the contents to Harry.

Nestled in soft padding lay a glimmering ring, ten tiny diamonds surrounding a large pear cut ruby. The gems sat on a thin silver band, and Neville smiled despite the pit in his stomach and the worry that it wasn't perfect.

 _It was_ , of course. The diamonds came from the very ring his Gram was presented in proposal many many years before. Harry had given him the idea to have it repurposed, and that is what found the pair at the counter in Goddard & Deveraux's that morning.

"She'll love it, Nev. It really looks great," his friend reassured, clapping him on the back. "Got everything set up for tonight then, yea?"

"I sure hope so. Hermione's been helping, you know. What with Narcissa always in her ear, she's become quite the party extraordinaire." They both chuckled at the picture of Hermione Granger - soon to be _Malfoy_ \- putting together a social event. Their long time friend had definitely acquired new tastes since their Hogwarts days.

Neville thanked the shopkeeper, having passed over a bag of galleons, and the men made their way out into the cobblestone street.

"Well, you know 'Mione. She's a perfectionist - there's no way it won't go smoothly. You just show up with the ring and woo your girl." With that, Harry shook Neville's hand and parted ways.

"Woo her. Right, okay," he sighed, turning on the spot.

 **xxx**

Augusta Longbottom stood before Neville, smoothing the collar of his shirt as he fidgeted with the hem, twisting it between sweaty hands.

"Would you stop that, boy!" She slapped his hand away, tugging the shirt slightly so it lay nicely in place.

"Sorry, Gram. Nervous…" he trailed off, letting out a shaky breath.

"Here, sit." She pushed him towards a chair in the corner of the parlor. "Let me tell you something, son. You are a handsome, courageous, kind-hearted man. You are a _Longbottom._ Brave, Neville. Just like your father."

He watched her as she spoke the affirmations, the tension building in his shoulders easing slightly.

"I haven't always been easy on you, _I know_. You look so much like my Frank, you do, and what with him… I've struggled. But you've grown before my very eyes and I would be an old _fool_ to lose sight of how brilliant my grandson is."

"Gram," Neville began, blushing under her praise. He'd wanted to hear these things for so long. He hadn't received the love he always needed, and though some may call her cold, he would take the affection late rather than never. He appreciated his Gram more than anything.

"I am _so very_ proud of you," she all but whispered, cupping his face in her hands. He stood then, pulling her small frame against him in a gentle hug.

"Thank you," he whispered in return.

She pulled away, wiping at her eyes while shooing him away. "Okay, okay. Enough of this! We've got to get you to your bride."

He smiled down at her, nodding in agreement. Patting his pocket, he confirmed the box was in place, and held out an arm to escort his gram to the Floo.

 **xxx**

They stepped out of the green flames into one of Malfoy Manor's many drawing rooms. This one, though, was filled with all their friends.

He was greeted first by Hermione, and as he looked around the room, he yanked her into a bone crushing hug. She's done a wonderful job, covering every inch of the space with twinkling lights that winked and sparkled off the reflection of the marble floor.

A large table was off to the left, filled to the brim with various hor'dourves, cakes, and an abundance of liquor - from flutes of champagne to tumblers of whiskey. Music floated across the expanse of the room and some had taken up the center floor space to twirl about.

Others mingled with each other, and slowly Neville greeted every guest, thanking them each in turn for their presence at the special event.

Though the environment was cheerful and relaxed, he was struggling to hold the smile on his face. She was due any minute now, and he watched the fireplace, his stomach a bundle of nerves.

Not five minutes later, the flames roared to life, and the crowd parted to let him pass through. Ginny walked out first, and just behind her Hannah stepped out of the flames.

He watched the emotions cross her face, nonchalance as she dusted off her robes, surprise when she looked up and found a room full of people, and confusion when she met his eyes, glancing from him to Ginny for any sort of explanation.

"Wh-what's going on? We were meant to meet Hermione and go out…" She trailed off, eyes wide as she chuckled nervously, all eyes on her.

He smiled at his witch, forever charmed by her sweet demeanor. He moved forward, taking her hands in his and nodded in thanks towards Ginny, who faded into the crowd and let the couple take center stage.

"You're not going out tonight, love," he kissed her hand, growing confident under her gaze.

"What is this?" she asked nervously.

"I brought you here tonight because… Because I wanted to ask you something very important. _Needed_ to ask you."

He dipped a hand into his pocket and dropped down to one knee, looking up at the beautiful woman he'd called his for the past three years. They'd taken things slow, enjoying their time together, building their careers and caressing their relationship until it bloomed into what he could only describe as euphoric. He'd never been so sure of something in his entire life, and the pure excitement that Hannah brought him was unlike anything else.

She gasped, looking down at him through her lashes, and he could see the tears already pooling in her eyes. Her eyes, the most beautiful shade of cerulean he'd ever seen. He got lost in those eyes, and he wouldn't mind drowning in that sea.

"Neville…"

"Hannah Abbott, you've made me the happiest man in not only wizarding Britain, but the entire universe. You nurture, challenge, respect, and _utterly complete_ me. There's no other woman in this world that i'd want by my side for the rest of eternity."

He flipped open the small box, revealing the promise inside. "Please, do me the honour… Be my wife."

She nodded her head slightly, seemingly baffled by the proposal, but quickly collected herself and squealed with enthusiasm, shouting the anticipated _yes_ so all could here. Neville slipped the ring from its resting place, settling it onto her left hand where it would stay, a token of his love and cherish, a promise of forever.

Everyone in the room burst into cheer, clapping and shouting out their happiness for the newly engaged couple. Neville had managed to hold back his emotion until Gram came forth and pulled his future wife into an embrace, thanking her for being exactly what her Neville needs.

Pleasantries were exchanged by the couple and their guests, and the celebrations continued as the sun sank away. Neville managed to slip out once his friends were well into the booze, taking Hannah back to his home where he planned to ravish and thank her in heated kisses and touch for giving him something that he'd felt he lacked for many many years. _Love._

 _ **Fin.**_


	3. Natasha

**Disclaimer:** All canon characters, plots and situations from the Harry Potter series belong to JK Rowling. I make no profit from this story.

 **Pairing:** HP/DM, HG, PP

 **Warning:** Language, Smut

Thank you **, LadyParongsny,** for talking me through this! You are a saint

 **A/N:** _And the craziest thing I've ever written goes to you, my sweet love - the only person I would ever attempt a foursome for! ;-)_ _ **Happy birthday, Nat**_ _! You are my sunshine in a world of rain, and I hope this day is as bright as your smile!_

* * *

 **Ménage à Quatre**

* * *

Draco stood in front of the tall mirror hanging from a wall in their bedroom. He ran a slender hand across the top of his head, smoothing the platinum locks he'd mussed up in his anxious worrying. It was the evening of his twenty third birthday - five years after the battle that plagued wizarding Britain, four years from the realization that he was also interested in men and three since he'd let Harry Potter into his life - _and sheets_.

The pair began their relationship walking on eggshells, both raw in the aftermath of war and struggling to put their past feuds behind them. There was no denying the mutual attraction was electric, and a fateful night of one too many drinks found both men all too eager to shed _more_ than their childish attitudes. The rest was history, as the saying goes, and they began a quiet life in a large townhouse in West Kent.

It wasn't that they were unhappy in their arrangement - they were _more than_ , to say the least, but it was a recurring conversation that they may be up for a bit more excitement. Neither man had been in any sort of physical relation outside their own in the time they'd been together, nor had either slept with a woman in many, many years. That's what brought them to _this_ night, both dressed to the nines in preparation for his birthday festivities.

Harry had taken it upon himself to arrange the evening's events, and Draco spent the last two hours pacing the floor of the bedroom, contemplating canceling the gathering and pouting in bed over his indecisive behavior. He hadn't even told Draco who he'd invited, for Merlin's sake.

"You'll enjoy this," Harry whispered, kissing his neck. "I promise."

 _My birthday. I should get a say…_

Harry chose that moment to enter the room, Draco's face still etched with a sneer as their eyes connected in the glass. "Are you brooding?" the dark haired wizard inquired as he crossed the room.

"Hardly," Draco scoffed, turning to face the man. "But i'm still questioning our sanity in all of this."

Harry smiled that crooked grin Draco had grown love over the years and pulled him down onto the bed. "I told you to trust me. _We need this, Draco."_ he spoke softly. "Plus, it's your birthday. When have I ever disappointed you?"

Draco pushed the man off him, standing to smooth the invisible wrinkles from his trousers. "Need I remind you of the chocolates you acquired from George Weasley for my twenty first? They turned my cock blu —"

"No reminder needed, love. I remember perfectly well. And that was an _accident._ " He chuckled, standing as well before leaning in to the pale man before him. "Smurf," he whispered against Draco's lips, capturing them with a brief kiss.

"You obnoxious baffoon," Draco growled, shoving the slightly shorter wizard away.

"Oh, you love me!"

"I have _no idea_ why," mumbled Draco, following reluctantly as Harry made his way out of the room.

Draco settled on the plush sofa in their lounge and watched as his partner poured two tumblers of aged whiskey from a decanter behind the bar. He thanked Salazar, _and Harry_ , when the glass was safely in his hands. He chugged the smooth liquid greedily, hoping it may loosen some of his growing tension.

When he finished that, he gulped down another, and as he topped off his third glass of liquid courage, the fire roared to life.

Harry had stepped away mere moments before, the Loo suddenly calling. Draco stared awkwardly for a moment as Hermione Granger stepped through the green flames. She hadn't noticed him yet, what with the bar parallel to the mantel, and he watched as she scanned the room ahead.

"Oi, Granger," he spoke, clearing his throat to direct her to his voice. "Uh, not that we don't enjoy your company, but we've got plans tonight, you see," He rushed. "It's not really the best time to pop in for a visit, yea?"

Just as he'd finished speaking, he took note of what she was wearing. The witch had donned a dress of the deepest red - fitted yet modest - falling right below the knee. The neck cut low, the tops of her tanned breasts exposed, and her feet were propped with heels of wicked height. Her mane was loose, wild, reminding him of the girl from their younger days. She'd taken to taming the beast over the years, and he questioned why tonight was different.

"But Draco," she began, "I've been invited… Oh, _gods_. Did Harry not tell you?"

"Tell me… What?" He froze. "It's _you_ … You're here for—"

"And where's Pansy? We were supposed to arrive at the same—"

"PANSY?" Draco choked, sloshing his drink on the counter as he fumbled to place it down.

"Surprise!" Harry clapped his hands together, finally reemerging from the lavatory.

If looks could kill, the boy who lived would be a goner. Draco moved forward, grabbing Harry by the shirt sleeve as he grunted his apologies to the waiting witch.

Safe behind the swinging door hiding away the kitchen, Draco released his grip. He leaned against the counter, head in his hands and took a few deep breaths. When he stood, his face was deadly calm, and Harry visibly gulped at the expression.

" _Harry_. _James. Potter,_ " he hissed, enunciating each word perfectly. "What the fuck were you thinking?"

"I have no idea why you're losing your bollocks right now, Draco!"

"Pansy? Ok… She's reasonable. An ex… A _friend._ And Salazar knows she'd be more than willing but… Harry you invited _Granger!"_ His voice had taken on a shrill, but he quickly lowered it at Harry's accusing eyes.

"She's beautiful, Harry. I know… But… Did she truly agree to this? I mean… She knows why she's here?"

"There's quite a lot of Hermione Granger you don't know, Draco. She's not the same child you still imagine her to be… None of us are. We've grown. _Clearly."_ Harry stepped forward, soothing his hand down Draco's chest. "Didn't you promise to trust me?"

He was kissing Draco's cheek now, just shy of his lips and Draco whimpered - a tiny mewl - because he wanted _more._ "Yes…" And Harry complied, kissing his mouth soundly.

"Good." The contact was gone, and Harry pushed the door out, tilting his head to usher Draco through. "It will be fine… wonderful _, perfect,"_ he whispered just before they reached the sitting room, where Hermione now stood close to the Slytherin princess herself.

"Are we still on then?" Hermione had her eyes locked on Draco, but he didn't move to answer, and Harry stepped in.

"Of course. This _is_ a celebration. I'd never cancel an opportunity to party, right Draco?"

"Of course not," he grinned, telling himself to relax.

"Happy birthday, old friend," Pansy smirked, kissing Draco on both cheeks before turning on Harry. Her eyes cut up and down his frame, eyebrow slowly rising as she examined him like a cut of meat. " _My my_ , Potter. I always forget how handsome you clean up."

"Pansy, you're looking nice this evening. Both of you," he nodded at each woman.

"Drinks then?" Draco piped in, hoping to get everyone past the niceties.

 **xxx**

An hour later, the atmosphere had changed drastically. Gone were the awkward formalities as the four threw back another round shots, laughing over tales Hermione spouted about Harry and the endless shenanigans he pulled as a teenager.

"I will _never_ forget the time I stepped into the common room and found you on your knees with Dean—"

" _Thomas_?" Draco interrupted.

"—sitting on the couch. The sound of your name falling from his lips is permanently etched into my brain!"

" _Really_ , Draco? Like you didn't know? Is your gaydar broken?" Pansy laughed.

"Right?" Hermione agreed. "Everyone knows Ginny was just a beard. I'm almost certain he was sleeping with Seamus most of sixth year."

"Roommates, remember? I would have noticed!"

" _No,_ not broken. I just had eyes for one person, is all." Draco took a swig of his whiskey, not bother to hide his blush as Harry squeezed his thigh, eliciting a coo from Hermione and a scowl from Pansy.

"As if you didn't have fun when you were with _me!_ " She scoffed, grabbing her own drink.

"Oh, come off it Pans. It's just different with Harry, is all."

"I'll show you…" she mumbled around her glass.

"Or you could show me."

Pansy's eyes cut to Hermione, who was a vision, her wild curls fanned across the pillow behind her head. "Is that a challenge?" Pansy questioned with a grin.

"More an invitation, i'd say." Hermione shrugged delicately, sipping her wine while feigning nonchalance. Harry watched the scene unfold, eyeing Draco who was looking at the girls with unconcealed surprise. He _did_ mention that Hermione was more than meets the eye…

Pansy grinned, a wicked gleam in her eyes as she set down her glass and scooted further down the couch, pressing her thigh against Hermione's. Harry's gaze fixated on the spot where pale skin met tan, and he licked his lips at the thought of running his hands up their smooth flesh.

Hermione sipped down the rest of her wine and passed the stem to Pansy before she pounced. In an instant, the girl's lips were crashing. Pansy ran a hand through her curls, pulling their bodies closer and furthering the delicious contact. As their tongues danced, the warmth in the room seemed to escalate, and soon Draco was clearing his throat to interrupt their fun.

"Did we forget whose birthday it is?" The whiskey must have done it's job, because the confident Draco Malfoy they were accustomed to was back in place, no evidence of his earlier nervousness left.

"Oh, yes - the birthday boy…" Pansy smirked, standing from her spot at the couch. She reached a hand out to the other witch. "What say we get the show started, Hermione?"

"I do so love a party, Pansy." Hermione pulled her wand, flicking it towards Draco, easily summoning both him and the chair he'd been resting in to the center of the room. "Harry, you've got music?"

"Surely." Harry moved to the corner of the room and popped a disc into the player. He cranked the volume up, letting it float over the room, effectively setting the mood. Hermione began a slow twirl around Draco's chair, running her wand across his broad shoulders. As Harry approached, he flicked his own wand. Draco's tie unlooped itself from his neck, landing in Harry's hand. He moved forward, pulling Draco's arms behind the chair and swiftly wound the tie around his wrists, binding them to the wood.

Draco's eyes darkened as he struggled momentarily against the fabric, tight enough that he couldn't escape but not so much that it hurt. It wasn't the first time they'd played this way - Harry had always been the domineering of the pair. His pants tightening almost painfully when Hermione's wand popped the buttons on his shirt, his marble chest exposed before them like a feast.

Pansy swayed her hips to the beat, pushing Draco's knees apart so she could settle herself between, using him as a prop for her dance. Her scent clouded his mind, and he closed his eyes and let the smell of lemon and florals flood his senses, remembering their last encounter like this all those years ago.

His eyes snapped open when he felt a hand rub over his pants, the bulge clear as day against his fitted trousers. Hermione had knelt before him, her hands moving in slow circles on his crotch. She continued to tease him mercilessly as he strained against the fabric, begging to be released.

 _Begging for release._

Just as she finally pulled the zipper down, dipping her hand into the offending article, Pansy captured his lips with her own. He gasped at the feeling of having both women on him, and shivered when he felt Harry slink up behind the chair holding him hostage to whisper in his ear. Draco was nearly certain he didn't need bound to keep him here. He was absolutely _captivated_ by the overwhelming sensations.

" _Happy birthday, Draco Malfoy,"_ came Harry's voice, a breathy whisper ghosting across his ear. He let his head fall back against the chair, panting as Pansy and Harry both graced his skin with wet kisses.

Hermione released Draco's member from her grasp, but only so Pansy could slide down to the floor and take him in her mouth. He wasn't sure he had ever thought her more pretty than that moment, down on her knees. He watched with hooded eyes as she bobbed up and down, her dark locks swaying slightly with the motion.

His attention drifted upwards where Hermione has locked lips with Harry, her arm extended to toy with a strand of Draco's hair at the nape of his neck. He'd never imagined he'd be turned on by Harry with another person, let alone _Hermione Granger_ , but he found himself struggling against the restraints, growing impossibly hard.

Pansy stilled, moving away with a soft _pop_. He watched her mouth as she spoke, her lips pink and swollen. "Care to show us the master suite?"

Harry answered, flicking his wand to unbind Draco. "This way, ladies."

Draco watched the three move through the hall towards their bedroom at the back of the house. He rubbed his wrist, grinning at the slight ring that was left behind.

 _This may be the best birthday yet…_

* * *

 **A/N: I do plan to expand on this and give you a taste of the bedroom! For now, we leave the birthday boy to his privacy...**


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